Child
by xXxMentalPancakesxXx
Summary: Child of mafia, and an older brother by all but blood. So involved by character, ignorant to name.


**I have no idea where this came from.**

**I really don't.**

**Title: Child**

**Word Count: 867**

**Summary: Child of mafia, and an older brother by all but blood. So involved by character, ignorant to name.**

* * *

That person had never really understood what it meant to be a child of the mafia.

That person was one, but in reality had never truly been one, kept in ignorance for as long as could be remembered.

It was evident in his every movement.

The way he could casually touch them, the manner in which he spoke to them, and the soft look in his eyes when he interacted with them. The way he could casually smile at them, easily accept them into his arms and treat them as if they were _normal._

Oh, he was aware of some things. He understood that they weren't raised in the same way; that they grew up in mafia families and learned skills that other children only read in fantasy books at older books. He knew their power and their strength. The fact that he accepted them was partially for this reason, because they led lives devoid of warmth and the aspects of childhood that all normal children had. However, no matter how much they loved him, adored him, and truly treasured him, they knew half of that love was out of ignorance.

For all that he knew of their training, he never truly had delved deep enough to understand and truly comprehend _what it was for_.

As infants, the weak ones were put down like cattle, the strong ones trained and put to the test. Only the strong survived, and those who survived were built to beat down the rest. Perhaps one would be valued for intelligence, another for strength, but it didn't matter; the end result was the same.

In the end, they were designed to kill.

And kill they did.

Until they met him.

Perhaps somewhere his mind knew it, but even so the idea would be vehemently rejected, for through all of his years, he had been soft of heart.

The mafia was cruel, and he should have known that when a famiglia so easily threw a child into the world to do an impossible mission that would result in death. He should have known it when a mere child had been abused for convenience, leaving power and a mind half mad. He should have known when they shoved young children into heavy responsibilities too big for small shoulders. He should have known when they rejected a weak child, he should have realized when they destroyed a family by destroying a famiglia, he should have known, he should have known, _he should have known_.

But he didn't know.

And he didn't _want_ to know.

But the mafia was cruel that way. The realization came to him sudden and hard when everywhere there was blood and death. He realized it at the same time he realized that there were worse things in death. He realized it when he was too stuck in the thick of it to escape. It hit him at the same time that somewhere along the line, involvement was inevitable, and that this bloody world would be the one he would die in.

But instead of drowning and despairing in that knowledge. _He changed it_.

Years after he reached that particular goal, they still couldn't believe it.

This singular warm person had changed it all. He had plunged into the center of it and wreaked havoc rotting it from inside out and carefully replanting the seeds. And like a miracle, it bloomed and budded.

But even then, he didn't understand.

He understood the cruelty of the mafia, the people who were in it, children and adult alike, but he never seemed to realize that they were one of them. He saw children driven to madness, other with anomalies that was branded with darkness, but never saw through their own cheer and happiness to mark the darkness deeply vuried into their blood. Perhaps it was because they were older now than they were then, normal by their extents and almost like any other their age. Or maybe it was merely their never mentioning of it. Perchance it was because he believed in their good, loved them in all, that he never truly deciphered the exact meaning of their labels. It was a foolish thing to do, but was another result of his soft heart. Either way they never questioned nor mentioned it.

They were content now, being babied sometimes and given aspects of their childhoods that they lost.

And they knew if they mentioned it now, the bright innocence would be once more worn down. It was almost funny. Such young killers saving the innocence of an older brother.

But they never minded.

"Lambo, I-Pin!" He shouted with his usual smile. The bright unwavering one that they loved. "And you too Fuuta! We're going to be late."

Lambo gave a glazed half-smile. "We're coming Vongola. But Lambo demands candy."

I-Pin hit thwacked him over the head. "Lambo don't be rude. Tsu-nii wait for us a moment! C'mon get your butt up. You too Fuuta!"

He smiled in response to his name "Coming Tsu-nii! C'mon I-Pin, Lambo!"

The three children of the Vongola made their way to their boss. Beneath smiles and childish faces, no one saw death underneath their skins in a permanent fixture.


End file.
